


It Hadn't Always Been Like This

by xxxbookaholic



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Childhood Friends, Coming of Age, Fluff, Light Angst, M/M, based off of a tumblr request, no beta we die like men, through the ages, timeskip kuroken
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-07
Updated: 2020-06-07
Packaged: 2021-03-03 21:08:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,970
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24592069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xxxbookaholic/pseuds/xxxbookaholic
Summary: It hadn’t always been like this. Kenma hadn’t always been so comfortable in his own skin, and Kuroo hadn’t always been so sociable. Sometimes, though, things just worked out.
Relationships: Kozume Kenma/Kuroo Tetsurou
Comments: 2
Kudos: 37





	It Hadn't Always Been Like This

**Author's Note:**

> This was written because of a request for Kuroken timeskip. I really wanted to write something about their childhood, so that's how this spawned. If you want to request fanfictions or headcanons, my tumblr is @.xxxbookaholic. Please enjoy!

**25 and 26**

It hadn’t always been like this. Kenma hadn’t always been so comfortable in his own skin, and Kuroo hadn’t always been so sociable. Sometimes, though, things just worked out. These were the thoughts that pounded through Kuroo’s mind as he nudged the door open, just a smidge, just enough so he could peak inside without being immediately spotted.

“ _Oh, I’m dying_ ,” Kenma’s voice was quiet, but clear.

His fingers were pressing non-stop against the buttons on his remote, eyes focused intently on the TV where his avatar was taking hits. His hair was half-way pulled back, a style that he’d never have sported a few years back, and he was wearing a headset, camera set up somewhat near him.

Kuroo’s grip tightened on the convenience store bags in his hand. It was times like these where he thought about how much they’d changed.

**9 and 10**

At age ten, the very prospect of getting to know new people terrified Kuroo. The day his grandfather had told him their neighbor had a boy around his own age, a boy that he should take the time to meet, Kuroo protested and locked himself in his bedroom.

After that, days passed where Kuroo would pay extra attention to his surroundings whenever he went outside. He didn’t want to come in contact with some hyperactive social-butterfly. ~~If only he’d known where he’d be in a few years.~~

Contrary to what he’d thought when his grandfather told him about the boy next door, though, he never saw said boy. The only thing that kept him from believing his mom hadn’t been lying in a feeble attempt to get him out of the house was the concrete outside of his neighbor’s house. The driveway had tiny footprints embedded into it, showing evidence of a possible child living there.

After a few moments of silent dinners and quick walks home from school, Kuroo’s dad dragged him to officially meet the neighbor. When a tall, kind looking woman answered the door, he made his way to stand safely behind his dad’s leg, clutching his loose jeans nervously and peeking into the house.

When a few minutes of conversation passed, the woman noticed Kuroo and called for who he assumed was the boy he’d heard _oh so much about._

There was a bit of rustling, and then a boy just a few inches shorter than Kuroo appeared, peaking out from behind his own mother’s leg, keeping a safe distance from the doorway.

“This is my son, Kenma,” the woman said. Her smile was soft and pleasant as she rested her hand upon her son’s head. The sudden touch made him jump, though, so she quickly pulled her arm back to her side.

Kuroo waved, but the other boy didn’t show any signs that he even noticed the gesture. The rest of the evening continued like this, with the two parents getting to know each other and the two boys standing awkwardly by their sides, avoiding eye contact as best they could.

A few hours came and went slower than they ever had before. Eventually, though, Kuroo’s dad pulled away and they walked back to their own house, the adult murmuring about how he’d have to invite the Kozume family to dinner sometime.

Kuroo swapped between going to school and staying in his house for the rest of the week, soaking up the silence. When Friday came, though, his lonely tranquility was interrupted with a knock on the door.

There were the sounds of his grandmother and the woman they’d met the week before exchanging pleasantries before he heard a, “Kuroo, come down for dinner, sweetie!”

He thudded down the stairs and came to face with, unsurprisingly, their neighbor. Neighbors. He recognized two of the people, said people being Kenma and his mother. The third person was a man who he didn’t recognize.

“Kuroo, this is Kenma’s father. Greet your guests.”

_They aren’t my guests_ , Kuroo thought but did not say. Instead, he leaned into a half bow and murmured a polite _hello_.

It wasn’t until both families were sitting around the table, scooping portions of food onto their plates and keeping up kind conversations, that Kuroo noticed the cat that had settled on Kenma’s lap. When Kenma’s mother noticed his staring, she smiled directly at him and gestured towards her son.

“That’s Mitsuru. She’s Kenma’s emotional support animal.” Kenma glanced over at his mom when she said his name. The cat, on the other hand, did not stir other than nuzzling her head deeper into his sweater.

Kuroo hadn’t been expecting to actually talk to anybody during that dinner. Of course, though, believing he wouldn’t have to say anything during a thirty-minute dinner was probably a tad too hopeful.

“She’s trained to not respond while working,” Kenma added unnecessarily, most likely just to fill the awkward silence between them. He still refused to meet Kuroo’s eye, though.

Kuroo just nodded in response, continuing to prod at his food with his fork. Suddenly, he didn’t have much of an appetite. He opted to instead pray that the social gathering would end sooner rather than later.

The whole situation passed even slower than when they’d met, which Kuroo hadn’t even known to be possible. When everybody agreed to be finished eating, the adults stood up and began cleaning up the kitchen, leaving Kuroo and Kenma to stare at the table between them.

They didn’t talk the entire time, simply shifting uncomfortably and hoping to be excused. Kenma pet the cat in his lap, almost absent-mindedly, and Kuroo stayed completely still, not daring to move a muscle.

At around nine o’ clock, the Kozume family finally left, and Kuroo sauntered up to his room, dribbling a volleyball on the ground in front of his bed and hoping that he’d never have to be in the presence of their neighbor again.

**10 and 10**

Kenma’s birthday came before Kuroo’s did. Usually his birthday was simple; a new video game or two and a family dinner. This time, though, his mother persisted in her mission to overcomplicate his semi-comfortable life. Semi because it was only comfortable half of the time.

When he was home, he was able to relax with Mitsuru and a few video games. When he was at school, he was still with Mitsuru, but it wasn’t half as relaxing knowing that she was only there in case of an emergency. The seven hours he spent at school was usually spent avoiding eye contact and blending into crowds.

“It’ll be fun!” His mother was talking, but Kenma had already turned off the part of his brain that translated words into coherent sentences. “Kuroo,” _that_ sure snapped him out of his funk, “would probably enjoy hanging out with someone his age, as well.”

Kenma didn’t respond because there was no point. When his mom set her mind on something, there was no stopping her. It was both a blessing and a curse.

Taking his silence as consent, his mom smiled and stood up from the foot of his bed, brushing her hands off on her jeans as she spoke. “Good! So it’s settled, I’ll invite Kuroo over this Sunday and he can join us for dinner.”

“Yeah,” Kenma mumbled absent-mindedly, still working through Legend Of Zelda: Link’s Awakening. His door slammed shut, signaling the end of he and his mother’s conversation. Sighing in exhaustion, he flopped onto his back, 3DS held high over his head. Mitsuru cuddled up on his stomach as he played, trying to put any thoughts that didn’t lead to earning coins out of his mind.

The next few days past a bit too quickly for Kenma’s taste, leaving him right at October Sixteenth’s doorstep.

Kuroo came over and stayed for dinner, just as Kenma’s mom had intended. During the three hours the older boy stayed, they spoke to each other three times. The first time was a simple greeting; Kuroo said happy birthday and Kenma thanked him for coming (‘or whatever’).

The second time was in the middle of dinner when Kenma’s mom asked Kuroo what his hobbies were. All he said was a timid, “playing.” From that, the adults brightened and informed him that Kenma also played video games. Kuroo said nothing afterwards.

The third time was when Kuroo was leaving. They exchanged shy goodbye’s and separated. Before Kenma’s mom could begin her, “that went well,” speech, he raced up to his room and collapsed in bed, praying that sleep would overtake him and wash away the day.

Over the next few days, Kenma’s mom invited Kuroo over more and more, even beginning to watch him every time his family went out without him. The fact that she never asked Kenma if _he_ was okay with being subjected to awkward two-sentence conversations and, “ _oh’s_ ,” kind of bothered him, but he wasn’t surprised. She’d always been persistent in trying to get Kenma a few new “friends”.

Today was one of the days that Kuroo’s family went out, leaving him and Kenma stuck in the latter’s room, playing Virtua Fighter, as they always did when Kuroo came over.

“Hey,” Kenma suddenly said, turning around. “Is there anything else you want to play? We do this every time you come over, so you must be getting bored.”

Kuroo seemed to go deep in thought for a second before he abruptly stood up and left the room. For a second, Kenma thought that that was his neighbor’s way of telling him he didn’t want to associate with him anymore (the feeling was mutual), but just as he was about to turn around and start a match against an NPC, Kuroo appeared once more. He was smiling awkwardly and holding up a volleyball.

Dread washed over Kenma in a matter of seconds. _I meant games,_ he thought dejectedly. But, alas, he was the one who asked Kuroo what he wanted to do, and Kenma wasn’t _that_ mean, so he nodded and stood up.

After that day, they began a routine. Kuroo would come over every Sunday, whether his family was home or not, and they’d play Virtua Fighter for three hours. After the hours past, they would go out to the neighborhood park and practice volleyball.

Kenma wasn’t even decent at the sport. He understood how it worked fairly well, but the ball just wouldn’t fly the way he wanted it to, and his receives seemed to be sloppy every time the ball came hurtling over to him. Plus, the impact of the ball left red spots all over his arms. Kuroo had said that it was just a little bit of internal bleeding, but he wasn’t completely convinced.

The only thing that kept him from suddenly cancelling was the new side of Kuroo that he got to see every time they pulled the volleyball out. It was as if a switch was flicked on inside of his throat, leaving him talkative and maybe even a little bit funny.

Every now and then, Kuroo would stay for an early dinner before going home. When he did, Kenma always instinctively picked Mitsuru up and sat her on his lap, just in case. He never did too well eating in front of others, especially when they were sitting across from him. He wasn’t big on direct eye contact, and sitting right in front of another person practically forced them eye-to-eye.

Still, though, he found that as time passed, the walls he had put up whenever Kuroo was around began to melt down. For the first time in a while, he felt like he could relax in the presence of another kid his age. It was a nice feeling.

**11 and 12**

By age twelve, Kuroo had broken out of his shell, almost to the point of not remembering how anxious he’d been at all. He joined the volleyball team, made friends, and learned how to keep a conversation going. Still, though, no matter how many playmates he had met, at the end of the day, he still retreated to Kenma.

Their routine stretched from Sundays to full weekends to Friday night sleepovers. It felt relieving to have a friend who was consistent; no matter how many times Kenma blended into the crowds of their school and avoided brushing shoulders, he never shied away from Kuroo.

Their mutual bond turned to friendship, and Kuroo felt like he was happier than he’d ever been before, even before the move.

**14 and 15**

“You say that your homework is _so much harder_ than mine, but then you come running to me for help the night before your math assignment is due. What’s up with that?” Kenma muttered absently, eyeing the paper that Kuroo had slammed down in front of him. The equations seemed foreign, but when he read over the instructions, the steps Kuroo was supposed to be taking stood out like a sore thumb.

“Here, you just do this,” Kenma said, ushering his neighbor over with one hand as he wrote out an example on the margin.

A few seconds past before Kuroo’s eyes lit up and he smiled, taking the homework back. “Thanks, Kenma!”

Instead of answering, Kenma turned back to his PSP, tapping away at the buttons. He was fully aware of Kuroo’s gaze flickering to the screen, but he didn’t look back to meet his friend’s gaze.

“Are you going to join the Nekoma volleyball team?” Kuroo suddenly asked, scooting over to sit cross-legged next to Kenma, homework temporarily forgotten.

Kenma finally looked back. “Maybe,” once he had responded, he turned back to his PSP.

Kuroo didn’t say anything for a long time, but when he did, he almost sounded wistful. “You should.”

The younger of the two didn’t answer. From then on, they worked separately, simply enjoying each other’s company.

_Maybe he would._

**17 and 18**

They were sitting on Kenma’s roof, closer to separation than they’d ever been before.

“Two more days,” Kuroo said airily, leaning onto his back. His head tilted at an angle that allowed him to perfectly see the younger of the two.

“Till what?” Kenma asked, despite knowing exactly what his neighbor was referring to.

“Graduation.” 

Kenma grimaced, hands clenching into fists. “Right. _That_ ,” it was much different to hear the words out loud than to think them.

There was more silence- enough to make Kenma finally turn around and face Kuroo. There was sadness in his eyes, something that was rarely ever visible in Kuroo’s expressions.

After a few more moments of prolonged silence and staring, Kuroo spoke again, smiling awkwardly. “You’re planning on quitting the volleyball team, aren’t you?”

_Damn_. Sometimes it sucked to have a friend who could read him better than he could read himself. “Yeah,” was all Kenma said, turning towards the stars once more. He’d never been one for astronomy, but something about the fear of abandonment made things change. Sometimes it felt like everything was changing at a much quicker pace than he could handle. He hated it

“You know, the rest of the team would miss you. They thrive because of your setting. You do know that, right?”

Kenma furrowed his eyebrows and looked down, once again refusing to look at the other. “I know. But there’s a difference between needing and wanting.”

He was dumbfounded by his own words. It was probably the longest thing he’d said aloud in a while. 

There was more silence. So much silence. Too much silence. Then, Kenma felt a hand on his arm. He looked up to see Kuroo sitting up again, much to close into his personal space for comfort. And yet, he almost didn’t care. It was _Kuroo_. Kuroo who introduced him to the only sport he could tolerate. Kuroo who finally got him to put his console down to eat. Kuroo who gave him somebody to sit with, with or without talking. Kuroo who was his universe.

“You’re right, actually. Good thing I’m talking about the space right in between,” Kuroo chuckled soundlessly.

Kenma’s gaze flicked to the hand on his shoulder as he responded in a voice that was almost like a whisper, soft enough to be carried away by the steady breeze and never return. “Yeah. Good thing.”

Kuroo leaned in, and Kenma’s first instinct was to slide off of the roof and run back into his house. But before he could initiate his action, their lips were pressed together and nothing mattered.

**25 and 26**

“Kuro. What are you doing?”

Kuroo was broken out of his thoughts by none other than Kenma, who’d noticed his figure in the doorway. Laughing, the former walked in, holding up the bags in his hand. “I just came by to bring you a snack. No need to get defensive.”

“I’m not defensive, but I’m in the middle of a stream right now.”

Kuroo didn’t stop smiling as he set the bag on the couch and settled in next to his boyfriend and roommate. “Your fans probably think this stream would be more interesting with me in it, anyways.”

“Not likely,” Kenma muttered. He sounded irritated, but Kuroo could see past his cold exterior to see the slight curl of his lips, the tiny sparkle in his eyes.

Kuroo pulled a bag of dried seaweed out and popped it open, chewing on one of the squares and watching the avatar on the screen move around.

Asami, one of Mitsuru’s kittens, was settled on the armrest of the couch, blocking any chance Kuroo had of putting his arm up. The three of them were almost like a happy family. Minus the wedding rings, of course.

Listening to Kenma’s voice and sitting beside him on their couch, he thought to himself that maybe he could get used to this.

But looking at his boyfriend, he remembered something crucial. _He already had._

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed! Please comment what worked and what didn't. I thrive off of validation from strangers on the internet.


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